


In the Dead of Night

by mar_map



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Julian is a sad bean, M/M, Misunderstandings, More comfort than hurt, Nightmares, Subdrop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 13:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16745122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mar_map/pseuds/mar_map
Summary: After a night of fun Asra gets up and leaves, and Julian just wants to know what he's done wrong.





	In the Dead of Night

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short piece of the hurt/comfort variety set at some undisclosed time before the plague.

Julian jolted awake, sitting up sharply while his breathing came in heavy gasps, sweat sticking his shirt uncomfortably to his skin. Chest constricted painfully, lung burning with the inability to catch his breath, Julian reached up to pull his shirt over his head. He desperately hoped that removing himself from his shirt’s confines would ease his breathing, maybe the cold air brushing against his skin would sooth the heaving gasps. He buried his head in his hands, red locks of hair damp from sweat as he tried to take deep breaths. Even in his desperation he felt a wash of shame drop over him for being so weak, so unable to handle a silly little dream. It brought tears to his eyes, although, maybe those had already been there. Either way, he could feel the burning behind his eyes, stinging in the same way his chest burned, ready to burst.

Unsteadily, he tried to silently count but had trouble focusing. It always worked when someone else did it for him, breathing in and out with him. Damn, he was so weak. He couldn’t even count to ten to slow his breathing down. He would die like this, die from a nightmare, die from being too pathetic to even breath properly.

When a hand landed on his shoulder, Julian jumped, could feel the way his entire body lurched at the touch. His eyes, wide and frightened, turned to meet Asra’s. Why was Asra there? Hadn’t he gone? They’d been together before Julian had gone to bed, but Asra had decided that Julian wasn’t worth his effort, that Julian wasn’t able to satisfy him. When had he come back?  _Why_  had he come back?

“Julian?” Asra’s voice was soft. His white hair tousled from sleep. Julian’s wide eyes took him in from his missing shirt down to him being nestled under the thin sheet covering them. How long exactly had Asra been there for? Asra slid forward, hand sliding from his shoulder to wrap around his midsection, chin hooking over his shoulder. “Why are you awake?”

Asra gave Julian a short squeeze around his middle when he didn’t answer right away. His hand rose again to card through Julian’s hair, pushing the wet strands away from his forehead. The gesture was comforting, and Julian let himself lean back into Asra. While he didn’t understand why Asra was there, he wasn’t about to waste this comfort. Asra pressed soft kisses along the juncture of his neck, breath hot against Julian’s skin.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

One of the most annoying things about Asra was his uncanny ability to read everything that Julian didn’t say. He suspected it may be a magic thing, but then again, maybe Asra just knew him too well. Ache still in his chest and gnawing feeling growing in his stomach, Julian didn’t answer. Nightmares were far from uncommon for him, but he knew Asra leaving earlier had fueled the unsteadiness this one had given him. He hadn’t been feeling right since Asra had left.

Yet, here Asra was, pulling himself flush against Julian’s back. The blankets were pooled around his waist, and Julian felt distinctly uncomfortable by their proximity despite his desire to press back into Asra’s touch. “Talk to me,” Asra coaxed lightly, faint presses of his lips still running down toward Julian’s shoulder. “What’s going through your mind?”

Julian swallowed. “It’s that damned insomnia,” he finally said, flashing a smirk toward Asra even though he wasn’t sure the other man could see his face from where he sat. Probably for the best. He felt the smirk wavering even as he tried to hold it, distracted by the burn in his eyes, in his chest.

Asra pulled back slightly, running both his hands down Julian’s back. His fingers didn’t bite in, but the pressure made Julian arch his back, soft sigh falling from his lips. He let his eyes slip closed, circling his fingers around the indentations in his wrists from where the ropes had bit in during their play earlier. It gave a sharp sting in retaliation, comforting in its familiarity.

Asra must have noticed his moment of weakness, pulling his hands apart and pressing soft kisses against his bruised skin. It stung, but not nearly enough, not nearly as much as the pressure he’d been placing there. “You should have told me you were hurting.” Even as he said the words, his thumb swept over the marks, healing them in their wake. Julian watched lazily, feeling somewhat disappointed to see the marks disappear. Just as soft, Asra did the same to his other wrist until his skin returned to its original state, untarnished.

Asra continued to run his fingers over Julian’s wrists as if to massage out the injury that was no longer there. Unable to stand the consistent motions, Julian turned his hands over, linking their fingers together. Asra smiled, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. “You didn’t need to do that,” Julian finally said. “No reason to waste your magic on me.”

Keeping their fingers entangled, Asra shifted around on the bed, coming to rest at Julian’s side, blankets tossed aside, caging Julian into the bracket of his legs. “Don’t be like that, Ilya.” Asra pulled one of his hands away to lay it on the side of Julian’s cheek, tilting his head up so that they were eye level. Still, Julian couldn’t meet his sharp, purple gaze, turning his eyes toward the side. The action caused Asra to let out a soft sigh, breath warm against Julian’s face. “You deserve good things, Ilya. I know you think you must earn affection and care, but you don’t. You can just have them.”

“Then why did you leave?” Julian felt himself flush immediately upon asking. He hadn’t even meant to ask, because he did understand. Asra could express his platitudes all he wanted, but at the end of the day, Julian knew he hadn’t earned the right for Asra’s love yet. He knew he’d never been good enough, could never _be_ good enough. Julian easily pulled out of Asra’s grasp, the other man letting him.

He seemed surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

Julian cleared his throat, embarrassed. They’d been speaking in hushed voices, not willing to break the silence of the night, but Julian’s embarrassment pushed him to speak in normal tones, forcing nonchalance. “It’s nothing.”

Asra’s hand returned to his cheek. “It’s not nothing if it’s bothering you.” When Julian didn’t answer right away, Asra lowered his hand to rest over his heart. They were quiet for long moments. It felt as if a gentle wave of warmth washed through Julian from Asra’s hand, and when a troubled frown creased his face, Julian pulled away. Asra had been reading his emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me I was pushing you too hard? Ilya, tying you up, ordering you around, that’s all supposed to be  _fun_. You have to tell me when it’s not, otherwise I don’t know.”

Surprised, Julian felt his eyes go wide as he stared at Asra. The other man looked positively miserable, creases between his brows and eyes shaded by the curls of his white hair. “It _is_ fun!” Julian rushed to assure him, because it was. Julian liked to be held down, to feel the power of Asra’s magic over him even if he didn’t understand it. “It _is_ fun,” he repeated, softer when Asra didn’t look at him. “I just-” he wrung his hands together, “I just wish I were good enough for you to stay. After.”

Asra looked up at him then, head tilted just slightly to the side. His lips were still downturned in upset, but his eyes were confused. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You - I - well,  _yes._ ” Julian felt his face flushing with embarrassment again. He looked down, watching his hands. “But after - after you untied me, you left. I’m not sure what I did wrong.” Other than being who he was.

Reaching out, Asra took his hands. “ _Ilya_ ,” he voice was soft, disapproving maybe, “I didn’t go anywhere. I locked up the shop and made sure that Faust had eaten. When I came back, you’d already fallen asleep.” Asra reached up to push Julian’s curls back from his face. If possible, his flush darkened further.

“Oh.”

“Yes, _oh_.” There was a smile in Asra’s voice. “I shouldn’t have let you continue sleeping thinking I’d gone. I should have taken care of you better.” As if to prove his point, Asra pulled Julian closer, gathering the larger man up in his arms. Hesitantly, Julian reached up, curling his hands over the back of Asra’s shoulders before burying his face against Asra’s bare chest. “I’m sorry.” Asra ran a comforting hand up and down Julian’s back, the other carding through his curls.

Tears burned hot against Julian’s eyes. How could he think Asra would leave him alone? Asra’s heart was too big to do such a thing. Sensing his continued unease, Asra shushed him quietly for a few minutes before pushing him back to rest against the bed. Julian reluctantly released his hold, staring up at Asra with burning eyes, lower lip caught uncertainly between his teeth.

Asra didn’t give him much time to think or move, pillowing his head down against Julian’s chest and tangling their legs together. He pulled the sheets up around their waists. “You did so good for me, Ilya,” he praised, resting a hand against Julian’s neck. “You’re always so good for me.”

Julian let his eyes slip shut, chest still tight but lightening as Asra continued to whisper quiet praise.

 


End file.
